


i want it all

by faithfulhope



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Jealousy, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:53:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22929763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithfulhope/pseuds/faithfulhope
Summary: Blonde enjoys telling Mr. White what he does to Mr. Orange behind closed doors.Mr. White doesn't care much for it.
Relationships: Mr. Orange/Mr. White (Reservoir Dogs)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 162





	i want it all

"He's loud, too."

Larry's fuming at Blonde's words, struggling to stay composed at the table. They're all out at breakfast, Orange on his left, talking with Pink while Blonde is on his right, whispering and nodding in the young man's direction.

"He sure likes to shriek," Blonde continues, smirking at Larry's clear irritation. "There's this one spot under his jaw, going down his throat. If you know where to nip _real_ nice... He melts like butter on toast." He holds up his piece of bread and laughs, taking a bite out of it as if to prove his point.

Larry shouldn't allow himself to get riled up. He knows Blonde doesn't actually care about Orange, and he's saying these filthy things to get a rise out of him. He doesn't even have confirmation that what Blonde is saying is _true._

He can't help the stinging sensations of anger, though.

He tries to get invested in what Orange and Pink are talking about. They're discussing some kind of radio show that they're both into, and hearing how passionate the kid gets when he speaks is intoxicating. He talks with his movements as well as his voice, muscles straining under his shirt when he leans forward and insists something to the other with excessive hand motions and a toothy smile.

He's a pretty kid, that's for sure, and it's no secret that he's caught Larry's eye.

Larry watches him talk until he thinks about his muscles straining under different circumstances, with Blonde on top of him, and he pushes that image away before he can act on what his angry thoughts want him to do.

Then, Blonde leans against his shoulder, his voice dripping with teasing venom as he starts up again, "You ever had him on his knees before?"

Obviously, he hasn't, and Blonde knows that for damn sure when he turns at a slight angle to stare him down. A twinkle of mischief lights up in Blonde's vibrant eyes when he sees the glowing danger in Larry's.

"Well, I'd recommend it," he mutters, tongue darting out over his lips in a snake-like manner. Then, he leans closer to his ear, voice dropping, "He gets this pretty look in his eyes when he begs. Not to mention, he gives _great_ head." 

Another explicit image forces its way in to Larry's mind. He can clearly see Orange, kneeling on dirty carpet with his head burrowed between Blonde's thighs. Picturing this arrogant bastard with his hand in the kid's hair, pushing his abused lips over his dick, makes his blood fucking _boil._

"Now, he won't outright say it, but he loves to be told he's doin' a fine job. _Loves_ to be sweet talked to, it's kinda cute—"

Larry's chair screeches as he stands up. Blonde is grinning victoriously, and Orange pauses in whatever he was saying.

He surprises everyone, including himself, when he grabs ahold of Orange's shirt and yanks him out of his chair. The kid yelps his surprise as Larry deadpans, "We'll be back," and drags them both to the direction of the bathroom.

He practically throws the kid into the enclosed space. He shuts the door behind them, careful to twist the lock before starting his way in Orange's direction. The bathroom is small, with white-tiled walls and flooring along with a filthy toilet and porcelain sink connected by crusted pipes. There's not much room for the kid to run.

The kid coughs as he staggers against the wall, light brown hair falling messily into his eyes and fingers splaying out on the grimy tiles to steady himself. "The fuck is your problem?!" Orange snaps, brushing the creases Larry created in his white shirt.

He's quick to shut up when Larry looms above him, trapping him against the wall with his arms above his head. "Is it true?" he hisses abruptly, staring him down.

The kid gulps. "What?" he asks, eyes wide and uncertain as he peers up to meet Larry's glare. A blush stains his cheeks, jaw slack with surprise at Larry's audacity. "The hell are you doing, man?"

"You and Blonde," the words fall out of Larry's mouth. "Is what he said true or not?"

" _Huh?_ " He looks to be struggling with a dilemma, seeming both hopeful and terrified underneath the older man.

Larry knows that Orange could push him off and run out of the bathroom if he really wants to, end it all and leave him without an answer. Larry wouldn't force him to do anything he didn't want to, either. Yet he remains, shrinking submissively under his towering arms and powerful gaze. 

He's had a feeling that Orange was eyeing him as well, and he's starting to believe his suspicions were true. 

He grabs a fist full of the kid's collar and yanks him until their lips are millimeters away from touching. He can feel the other's twitch with nervousness.

" _Did he fuck you?_ "

His mouth parts in a shocked gasp, and Larry can't control himself anymore. 

He breaks the distance with a furious kiss, all teeth and no chaste. He pushes against him, rough and hard, knocking his head into the tile with an audible _thud!_ The kid breathes a whimper in the older man's mouth, which only fuels the fire to his rage. He bites down on his bottom lip, tugging with need.

The kid fucking _moans._ As if he's a cheap whore.

He wants to know, he _has_ to know, but he can't find it in himself to withdraw from the kid's touch now that he's experiencing it. His nerves are alight with glee as their noses bump together and tongues search each other's mouth, unable to believe this is actually real and not another fantasy. 

He's kissing Larry back just as desperately, pawing at the older man's shirt and tugging at his belt loops with another hand. Larry doesn't know where to start, but decides to lower his arms and wrap them around the kid's back. His body is warm, tongue licking sloppily past Larry's lips as he shoves their crotches against each other. 

Larry's eyes widen at the sparks flashing through his body, causing him to groan. He hears a laugh, but _feels_ the smugness pouring off of the kid's aura. _He really thinks he's some kind of tough guy, huh._

Not to be outdone, Larry reaches down and cups his cock through his pants. He rubs with a low, encouraging hum in the kid's ear, marveling at how hard he is. With how he sighs quietly, eyelashes fluttering blissfully, it's clear he's no shy beginner. 

Larry's gentle purr turns into a rough growl and he grips a bit harder than he should've, indicated by the kid's cut-off gasp. "I want an _answer_ ," he snarls, snapping teeth against his ear and down his jaw.

"For wh-what, again..." The kid's inquiry trails off into a keen as Larry bites and kisses fresh marks against his throat. His noises become more guttural, body thrashing and crotch grinding with desperation, especially at a particular area right above his collarbone. He jerks at the sharp teeth, then whispers, " _Fuck._ "

_Melts like butter on toast._

He reels back, spit flying in different directions as he steps away from the kid. He tries to follow Larry, but can hardly move with how weak his body has become. It's _really_ fucking hot, seeing the kid so turned on by him, but he has to restrain himself.

"Blonde. Did he fuck you, or not?"

Orange looks up at the ceiling with a groan of frustration. "C'mon," he tries to plead, reaching out for Larry.

Larry grabs both wrists and shoves them against the wall. The kid's breath stutters at the display of power, sliding a few inches down the wall and staring helplessly at Larry's demanding look.

" _Tell me,_ " he whispers threateningly.

The kid's struggling to speak, breathing heavily as sweat begins to bead on his forehead. He can't find the words he's searching for, lost behind a cloud of incoherent desire. 

Pride flows through Larry, knowing _he_ reduced such an attractive man to so little words, but he's feeling his patience ebb away. He tightens his hold on the kid's wrists, telling him without words to get on with it.

Finally, Orange breathes with a laugh, "Why is it any of your business?"

Orange's cocky demeanor is instantly dropped the second he's being shoved on his knees. Hazy red oozes in Larry's vision, making it hard to think straight.

He doesn't like the idea of the kid being claimed by such an annoying, intolerable prick. He should've had him first, and he wants to make him forget everything around him.

He's gonna get on with it, he figures, just as he realizes he's already drawn his belt out.

"White...?" Orange questions, fingers hovering above the button of his pants.

He's gonna make this pretty boy _his._

He undoes the button and unzips his pants, quick to pull his cock out of his underwear. He _really_ likes the way the kid eyes him, intimidated but eager, as he wraps a shaky hand around him. His hand is dry, yet soft, and the way he rolls his wrist while he takes him into his mouth is fucking _incredible._

Larry braces himself against the wall behind Orange, burying his other hand into the kid's soft hair and holding him down. He chokes, tongue swirling wetly around his length while he struggles to take in air through his nose. Spit dribbles down his chin and tears prick the corner of his eyes, but it's clear when Larry releases him and allows him to bob his head freely that he's loving every second of it. 

Every nerve feels like it's being caressed. The kid sucks loudly and shamelessly, as if it's the last thing he'll ever do. His hands have fallen to his sides as he allows Larry to fuck his mouth, twitching like if he wants to grab something, but he remains still and lets himself be used. Little gasps and whimpers escape when Larry withdraws, but they're shoved back down by his cock.

 _Yes, yes,_ the older man chants internally as he starts to pant heavily, feeling his orgasm creep up his abdomen. _All mine, fuck, fuck..._

"So _good,_ " Larry groans, hips starting to stutter and lose rhythm. "You _really_ know how to work cock, don't you? _Fuck,_ kid, you're gonna make me..."

Orange moans in response, peering up at him through his eyelashes. He presses a hand against his own crotch, eyelids closing as his hips jut out in clear indication of his own release, and then Larry is gone. 

He brings his wrist up to his mouth and clamps down, muffling his uncontrollable groans as a powerful orgasm crashes over him. He spills down Orange's throat and the kid takes it like a champ, sucking greedily on his sensitive dick and not losing a single drop. He swallows loudly as Larry pulls out of his mouth.

 _Christ,_ he's gonna be the death of him.

He tucks himself back in his pants and helps the kid stand up. His legs are wobbly and his eyes are glazed over with satisfaction, which prompts Larry to pull him to his chest with affection. The kid goes with it, as limp as a ragdoll, sighing and huddling up against Larry's shoulder. He purrs as the older man drags a fond hand through his scalp.

He really is pretty damn cute.

They remain there for a good minute before Larry checks the front of Orange's pants. There's no visible wet spot, at least under the bathroom's dim lighting, but there's no way he can be comfortable in sticky underwear. He'll likely be wanting to leave as soon as possible.

Larry doesn't know if he'll ever want to let go of this moment.

Until he remembers what Blonde had been saying, and cold replaces the heat in his belly.

_Blonde got to experience all of this first._

He has no reason to be angry when he had no initial claim on Orange in the first place, but hot anger swirls through his body and creates tension where it shouldn't be. It's a damn annoyance.

"So, he did fuck you, then." He sounds bitter, and he doesn't want to chase the kid off with his envious emotions, but he feels like he needs to establish that before they can move on.

"What?" Orange laughs dazedly into his throat, nosing happily against his skin. His warmth is so welcoming, so _tempting,_ that Larry has to push him off in order to keep speaking.

"Blonde. He got to fuck you first, right?"

The kid looks confused, before a dawn of understanding passes over his eyes. He laughs nervously, brushing a hand over his neck as he announces, "Oh, uh. Not really, no." He gives his best apologetic smirk and doe-eyes.

Larry glares, but a flutter of hope blooms in his chest. His stare prompts Orange to further explain, "I haven't been with another guy for _years_ , but I could tell the idea of it pissed you off. Didn't know you were so jealous, but it was fuckin' hot."

Hope explodes into excited sparks, flooding him with euphoria. He pulls the kid back to his chest and bites another rough kiss against his lips, a promise of what's to come. Knowing now that he's the first after a long time is good, it's _great_ , and thoughts of everything _else_ he wants to do crashes through his mind. 

They have to go back, though. The men are likely wondering what's taking them so long.

The two make themselves presentable, then they walk out of the bathroom. They get a few knowing glances from other patrons, but they don't matter. They won't ever see them again once they leave.

They head back to their table, but are surprised to find it mostly empty.

The only one who remains is Mr. Blonde.

A whirlwind blows through Larry's brain, freezing him in place. He doesn't know if he wants to punch him, or thank him. If he hadn't looked or acted like such an asshole, Larry might've gotten on his knees and praised him.

"Everyone else left," Blonde informs, as if they couldn't already find that out for themselves, a pleased grin on his arrogant face. "Don't worry, we took your fair share of payment from your wallets."

Embarrassment floods through Larry once he realizes what he did. He just dragged off a man whose name he doesn't even know to fuck in a filthy bathroom, like a damn teenager. When he was with other company, no less!

Larry can't help glancing in the kid's direction, wanting to see how Orange is taking it, and he's no better. Red has rushed to his soft cheeks, which reminds Larry of how he looked with his cock in his mouth, and the older man masks a groan behind a raspy cough.

"So, did I get everything right, Mr. White?"

"What?" Orange blanches, eyes darting rapidly between the two men.

Blonde's grin deepens into a sneer, and Larry explains, humiliated, "He was saying... all sorts of things about you." _Things that got me fired up like I was 17 again._

"I'm guessing I had the right ideas, then, yeah?" Blonde hums, tapping a finger on the table. "You both are a lot more predictable than you think you are."

Larry's fist curls up, wanting either a cigarette between his fingers or blood spilling on his knuckles. 

Orange's shoulders tense up next to his as he realizes what they're talking about, and his blush deepens. "How the fuck would you know anything about what I like?" he bites, casting his gaze to the floor.

Blonde raises an eyebrow, then stands up and forces their eyes to meet. "All I need is one look at you," he says darkly, sinister smile not once faltering. He pats Orange on the shoulder, then heads towards the exit. "I'll see you two at the warehouse later. Try and find something to occupy the time with." 

The door chimes as it opens, and then it's shut, leaving Larry and Orange to figure out what the hell they're supposed to do next.


End file.
